UC-NRLF 


SB    275    t,ll 


GIFT  OF 
Class   of   1887 


' 


DARWIN 


ain  Williams 


DARWIN 

by 
DIGAIN  WILLIAMS 


SAN  DIEGO,  CALIFORNIA 

F:ye  8i  Smith,  Printers 


Copyright  1922 
by  Digain  Williams 


TO 
E.  M.  R. 


939883 


DARWIN 


When  thou  wert  young  the  world  was  young, 
Eternity  had  swallowed  Time 
Too  soon,  and  man's  grand  upward  climb 
Had  only  started,  when  a  tongue 

Thou  gavest  ages  which  rehearse 
The  songs  of  conquests  old  at  last, 
Which  reach  the  ear  from  out  the  vast 
Recesses  of  the  universe. 


And  through  the  million  ages  grown, 
We  see  the  myriads  crawling  by, 
Till  man  is  formed  within  the  die 
Which  God  had  cast  the  earliest  dawn. 


When  thou  wert  old  the  world  was  old, 
And  old  was  Night  and  Day  and  Time, 
And  old  was  man  whose  upward  climb 
Began  when  life  began  unfold. 

II. 

We  see  thee  simple,  docile  child, 
Who  roams  alone  o'er  moors  and  hills, 
Not  knowing  whence  are  all  the  thrills 
Which  move  thine  heart  out  in  the  wild. 

'Tis  Nature  making  love  divine, 
Before  thou  knowest  yet  her  tone, 
She  loves  to  have  thee  all  alone 
And  whisper  to  thee  she  is  thine. 

And  those  adventures  in  thy  brain 
Are  but  an  effort  to  relate 
Those  secrets  knocking  at  the  gate 
Of  mind,  with  all  persuasive  strain. 


We  wonder  not  at  thy  delight, 
When  later,  as  they  found  their  way, 
We  see  thee  listening  all  the  day, 
And  oft  forgetful  of  the  night. 


We  watch  thy  sisters  who  became 
A  mother  to  thee  each  in  turn, 
The  fire  that  she  had  set  to  burn 
They  fanned  with  love  a  living  flame. 


A  Martha  quick,  a  Mary  mild, 
Who  loved  a  brother  who  returned 
A  love  so  beautifully  earned. 
And  did  they  feel  the  destined  child, 


While  death  would  hover  round  his  head, 
Would  bring  our  past  to  human  view, 
As  did  the  brother  of  those  two 
The  future,  while  they  thought  him  dead? 


We  see  them  go  about  the  place 
Whispering  plans  for  thy  full  joy, 
And  does  thy  future  awe  them,  Boy? 
Does  now  the  dawn  peep  in  thy  face? 


The  high  dawn  of  a  rising  sun, 
Behind  the  darkest  clouds  which  spread, 
That  hence  will  pierce  all  systems  dead, 
And  throw  a  light  on  all  things  done. 

We  see  thee  by  the  "Bell-stone"  stand, 
Enchanted  by  her  story  old, 
She  was  the  first  of  them  that  tolled 
The  music  of  my  native  land 

Into  thy  soul  with  accents  strong, 
What  wonder  that  in  other  climes 
We  see  thee  charmed  with  other  chimes 
Since  thou  had'st  heard  so  sweet  a  song. 

10 


We  see  thee  growing  into  man, 
A  full  grown  man  in  flesh  and  mind, 
As  light  of  foot  as  is  the  wind. 
We  see  thee  start  with  pen  to  scan 


The  epics  grand  God  early  wrote; — 
The  lyrics  of  the  heart  divine. 
The  tiniest  life  within  the  brine 
Is  of  the  harmony  a  note. 


We  thank  the  church  of  ancient  rites 
That  called  thee  to  the  ancient  hall 
Of  her  we  reverently  call 
The  mother  of  great  English  poets. 


We  see  thee  go  from  land  to  land 
In  war  too  great  for  cannon's  roar, 
A  universe  not  known  before 
Is  claimed  in  silence  by  thine  hand. 

11 


From  day  to  day  there  at  the  Down 
We  see  the  work,  the  Gravel  Walk, 
But  of  thy  pain  we  cannot  talk, 
For  on  thy  face  is  not  a  frown. 


To  her,  the  guardian  of  thy  breath, 
Our  debt  grows  larger  day  by  day, 
For  as  ye  went  she  smoothed  the  way 
With  tenderness  that  crippled  death. 


Unwearied  care  in  perfect  ease, 
A  love  so  strong,  its  whisperings 
Would  banish  pain  with  all  its  stings, 
And  change  the  storm  to  perfect  peace. 


Thou  ne'er  did'st  throw  a  mistletoe 
At  any  good,  and  yet  on  thee 
Some  poison  fell,  but  not  if  she 
Could  catch  the  drops  and  drink  thy  woe, 

12 


And  when  the  temple  of  thy  fame 
Will  stand  in  ages  not  revealed, 
Her  sacred  word  and  lovely  deed 
Will  on  its  altar  always  flame. 

III. 

We  thought  that  truth  had  answered  search, 
And  destined  thee  to  teach  the  few, 
And  call  from  altar  to  the  pew; 
Thou  madest  all  the  world  a  church, 

Proclaiming  God  with  growing  force, 
But  on  His  face  was  not  a  smile, 
For  thou  wert  blinded  for  a  while 
Because  so  very  near  the  source. 

Some  closely  to  the  Sun  have  mused, 
And  seen  a  light  unknown  to  earth, 
But  when  they  turned  to  tell  its  worth 
The  world  was  dark  and  they  confused. 

13 


And  words  unkind  at  them  we  hurled, 
We  thought  the  rays  were  contrary 
To  those  which  shine  from  Calvary 
Revealing  life  to  all  the  world. 


But  all  the  lights  have  one  high  source; 

They  fall  on  angles  human  here 

Which  are  not  yet  divinely  clear, 

And  change  their  paths  and  lose  their  force. 


"Against  the  truth  he  always  cried". 

Is  baffled  silence  deadly  guilt 

While  yet  the  church  is  being  built 

On  ground  known  truth  was  once  denied? 


'Tis  he  that  cries  against  the  truth 
Who  never  tries  to  find  it  out, 
And  he  who  is  afraid  of  doubt 
Believed  but  little  from  his  youth. 

14 


God  by  one  stroke  made  all,  was  true, 
All  truth,  and  rested  like  weak  man. 
We  saw  not  the  eternal  one — 
"My  Father  worketh  hitherto". 


Can  finite  mould  hold  all  the  truth? 

Is  purity  of  no  avail? 

Ah !  what  of  him  who  did  not  fail 

To  keep  those  ten  words  from  his  youth? 


Much  was  he  loved,  had  he  but  gone 
And  kept  the  new  one  he  was  told ! 
The  new  was  thine  if  not  the  old, 
And  hast  thou  found  the  two  as  one? 


For  did  He  not,  who  gave  them  fame, 
Declare  them  to  be  closely  bound? 
Where  one  is,  oft  the  two  are  found, 
Somewhere  perhaps  they  are  the  same. 

15 


Sometimes  we  doubt,  sometimes  deny, 
Of  no  apostle  do  I  know 
In  whom  the  Master  found  no  flaw, 
But  every  doubt  and  every  cry 


Against  the  truth's  eternal  sway 
Will  melt  and  die.    I  know  the  fine 
All  precious  gold  from  God's  own  mine 
Will  somewhere  cast  all  dross  away. 


Outgrown  at  times  by  love  is  sense, 
The  younger  bud  hid  by  a  snow 
White  rose;  the  Master  said,  "I  go", 
His  friend  called  out  for  self  defense. 


He  knew  not  then  the  things  of  God, 
And  he  was  therefore  much  reproved, 
And  yet  he  then  his  Master  loved 
Just  like  a  child,  but  felt  the  rod. 

16 


His  love  has  weight,  but  not  enough, 
To  balance  ignorance  it  fails, 
But  later  how  it  turned  the  scales 
When  thrice  the  summons  came  for  proof! 


But  thy  strong  mind  outran  the  heart, 
The  two  but  seldom  keep  the  pace, 
But  each  at  last  will  know  her  place 
And  say,  "My  Lord  and  God  thou  art". 


For  both  are  His  and  beat  and  climb, 
Because  He  moves  and  soars  Himself. 
To  joint  creation's  highest  shelf 
Who  now  can  prophesy  the  time? 


The  love  thou  had'st  for  those  thine  own 
Was  altar  fire  sent  from  above, 
I  know  that  heat  has  caught  thy  love 
Which  broke  out  with  that  holy  dawn 

17 


In  wild  ecstacies  strange  to  them; 
The  trust  thy  child  found  warm  in  him, 
Is  like  that  of  the  seraphim 
Who  guards  the  new  Jerusalem. 

IV. 

Men  shout  thy  blunders  are  so  rife, 
Well,  if  completeness  had  been  reached, 
Then  void  would  be  what  thou  hast  preached 
For  progress  is  its  very  life. 

Thou  wert  a  part  of  what  was  taught; 
We  see  its  truth  in  thine  own  mind 
Unfolding,  nor  can  human  kind 
Be  perfect  in  one  single  thought. 

And  in  the  best  someone  will  miss 
What  he  alone  could  not  have  found. 
No  aim  can  to  perfection  bound, 
No  art  than  artist  greater  is. 

18 


The  story  told  with  careful  art, 
Is  not  the  whole  although  sublime, 
For  other  things  will  come  with  time 
But  now  we  only  "know  in  part". 


While  seeking  for  an  ancient  goal 
'Twas  given  one  to  find  the  new 
For  all  these  millions,  not  the  few; 
Within  the  new  to  find  the  whole 


Was  given  thee.    We  stood  beside 
Locked  gates  of  worlds.    God  gave  to  thee 
A  strong  and  precious  golden  key, 
The  universe  is  open  wide. 


We  see  what  He,  the  Lord,  hath  done 

In  Being's  temple  on  each  wall, 

He  is  "the  Lord  that  maketh  all", 

And  He  "spread  forth  the  heavens  alone", 

19 


We  love  as  true  the  great  and  small, 
Without  the  tiniest  little  wheel 
The  master  timepiece  now  would  reel, 
And  into  chaos  black  would  fall. 


We  trace  the  highest  suns  that  soar, 
And  belt  them  as  they  whirl  and  dance; 
And  note  the  star  above  the  glance 
Of  humming  birds  in  Ecuador. 


We  cross  those  lands  long  since  no  more, 
And  sweep  o'er  continents  unformed, 
We  sail  o'er  oceans  never  stormed 
Which  never  knew  nor  sand  nor  shore. 


We  bask  in  suns  not  born  to  men, 
And  cool  in  shades  no  breath  hath  stirred, 
We  hear  hosannas  never  heard 
With  far  off  ages  shout  "Amen". 

20 


And  down  creation's  aisles  we  walk 
So  far  with  trembling  and  with  fear, 
We  feel,  O  Lord,  that  thou  art  here, 
Our  silence  take,  we  cannot  talk. 


Ah !  finished  man,  for  he  creates, 
And  with  a  little  lump  of  clay 
He  up  to  beauty  starts  a  way. 
What  courage !   God  he  imitates. 


He  there  for  God  began  to  grope, 
And  there  he  once  began  to  nod 
With  but  a  dreamy  smile  on  God : 
The  germ  of  everlasting  hope. 

We  see  the  dawn  of  higher  race, 
The  dawn  of  beauty  from  the  mind, 
We  see  the  triumph  of  the  kind, 
We  see  the  ape  go  from  thy  face. 

21 


We  hail  thee,  "Dawn  Man",  mixed  thy  rays, 
Three-fourths  a  man,  a  fraction  brute, 
For  through  thine  eye  a  mind  doth  shoot, 
While  round  thy  mouth  a  simian  stays. 


There  is  some  keenness  in  thy  look, 
There  jabbering  to  a  common  flint, 
To  thee  more  precious  than  a  mint 
Of  gold,  while  sitting  by  that  brook. 


We  hear  thee  babbling  to  thy  child 
Who  softens  much  thine  iron  heart, 
Unknown,  he  knows  the  highest  art, 
The  art  that  turns  the  fierce  to  mild. 


The  morn  is  moist,  and  rich  and  warm, 
The  lion's  roar  awakes  the  tree 
That  at  the  sound  lets  down  on  thee 
The  shower  resting  on  her  arm. 

22 


We  see  the  time  a  grain  of  choice 
Disturbed  the  sea  of  instinct  still, 
And  count  the  days  of  mind  and  will 
To  where  all  tongues  are  but  a  voice. 


Born  is  the  rose  of  holy  fame, 
And  Nature  blushes  like  a  maid 
That  ages  hence  in  some  cool  shade 
Will  blush  when  love  will  give  the  same. 


The  birds  with  music  fill  the  land, 
And  all  the  creeping  things  are  charmed, 
Like  vanquished  warriors  are  disarmed; 
Drowsy,  they  listen  on  the  sand. 


And  creatures  small  and  great  the  earth 
Possess.    What  wondrous  forms  of  life! 
And  some,  as  now,  are  in  a  strife 
And  some  are  full  of  early  mirth. 

23 


And  one  claims  both  the  land  and  sea, 
Of  earth  the  first  possessor  strange, 
A  double  creature  slow  of  change, 
Yet  changing  with  the  seasons  free. 


Life  fills  the  restless  ocean  wide, 
Great  monsters  move  the  waters  deep, 
Until  at  times  their  mighty  sweep 
Quite  baffles  the  young  rolling  tide. 


At  last  we  reach  a  simple  kind, 
A  simple  life  with  simple  need, 
Though  simple,  yet  profound  indeed, 
Beyond  the  reach  of  human  mind. 


And  still  far  down  the  ages  through 
We  travel  towards  that  holy  light 
That's  on  the  altar  ever  bright, 
And  transubstantiation  true! 

24 


For  when  was  gone  the  heated  strife, 
And  Peace  gave  earth  such  rich  contents, 
God  somehow  mixed  the  elements 
With  drop  of  self,  and  there  was  life. 

Man  yet  will  sing  his  pean  best, 
And  all  the  ages  flood  with  light, 
When  many  letters  come  to  sight 
Now  hid  in  Nature's  palimpsest. 

V. 

And  Nature  shared  with  thee  her  charm, 
And  mused  with  thee  as  friend  with  friend, 
While  beautifully  to  the  end 
We  saw  ye  going  arm  in  arm. 

And  one  in  love  vowed  every  day 
That  she  is  living,  kind,  and  true, 
That  she  is  calm  and  constant  too, 
And  that  she  no  one  doth  betray. 

25 


Then,  when  we  missed  the  solemn  face, 
Thou  did'st  inform  us  how  she  lives, 
And  how  she  takes  or  how  she  gives 
Herself  such  "beauteous  forms"  and  grace. 


Much  like  two  lovers  once  I  knew, 
The  one  saw  naught  but  living  soul, 
The  other,  this  and  that,  and  all 
The  little  acts,  the  lovely  hue. 


Had'st  thou  but  paused  and  listened  long 

And  questioned  her  a  little  less, 

I  seem  to  hear  her  now  confess 

Thou  would'st  have  heard  that  deeper  song 

He  heard  by  Tintern  and  the  Wye, 
And  would'st  have  felt  a  "spirit  roll 
Through  all  things"  while  embracing  all. 
And  with  that  certain  "inward  eye" 

26 


Had'st  "seen  into  the  life  of  things", 
And  would'st  have  linked  what  is  evolved 
To  Him  whose  being  is  unsolved, 
Whose  living  voice  through  all  things  rings. 


And  did'st  thou  lose  thy  love  for  song? 
I  doubt;  the  music  heard  alone — 
The  note  of  Being's  sweetest  tone — 
Was  in  thine  ear  then  far  more  strong, 


And  drowned  the  voices  of  the  times. 
I  love  to  think  that  on  some  shore 
Thy  love  for  Milton  lives  once  more 
And  that  thou  hearest  human  rimes ; 


And  that  thy  endless,  upward  course, 
And  all  the  vastnesses  that  be, 
Now  swell  the  anthem  sung  by  thee, 
"One  hand  hath  made  the  universe". 

27 


VI. 

One  hand  is  seen  in  all  the  plan, 
One  living  mind  lives  in  the  whole, 
But  what  the  purpose  in  it  all 
We  know  not,  but  we  feel  that  man 

Is  destined  for  a  noble  end; 
Through  mists  which  on  the  ages  lie 
A  glimpse  of  glory  strikes  the  eye 
Though  long  the  way  on  which  we  wend. 

In  all  the  plan  one  hand  is  seen 
Though  useless  seem  a  myriad  lives, 
Who  knows  but  that  which  lives  and  strives 
And  fails  to  us,  succeeds  ?    Now  keen 

The  strife,  and  old,  and  grim,  and  long, 
Since  all  we  cannot  understand, 
How  know  Design  is  not  at  hand  ? 
Doth  not  the  weak  help  make  the  strong? 

28 


Of  Order  and  Design  no  doubt 

We  feel.    Since  God  designed  the  whole 

There  must  be  Order  in  it  all. 

The  Order  is  Design  worked  out. 


And  in  this  universe,  at  most, 
Truth  comes  in  parts  now  unto  men 
Or  blinds  them;  time  may  yet  come  when 
The  weak  is  strong  and  nothing  lost. 


All  energies  now  out  of  sight 
Live  on  and  neither  sleep  nor  rest, 
The  heat  I  saw  transform  the  west 
Hides  in  the  oak  on  which  I  write, 


Although  I  feel  a  creeping  chill 
When  on  it  rests  my  hand  tonight. 
I  know  that  ail  the  grains  of  might, 
Though  unavailable  at  will, 

29 


And  uncontrolled,  and  tossed,  and  hurled, 
And  lost  to  men  who  see  not  far, 
Will  find  a  home  in  other  star 
And  join  to  move  some  other  world. 


And  life  may  start  in  other  grooves 
And  turn  to  forms  so  different 
In  other  realms,  for  God's  intent 
Is  infinite,  the  things  He  loves 


In  number  infinite  must  be ; 
To  satisfy  unfathomed  heart 
Creative  will  may  use  all  art, 
Who  knows,  throughout  eternity. 


Tis  true  I  cannot  comprehend 
A  going  on,  forever  on, 
But  if  I  could,  well,  surely  then 
That  unto  me  would  be  the  end. 

30 


The  life  He  started  shall  not  lurk, 
Although  it  seems  to  us  to  stop, 
But  will  it  ever  reach  the  top? 
And  God  give  up  his  greatest  work? 

For  many  are  the  worlds  to  come, 
With  million  suns  He  will  adorn, 
And  after  that  will  men  be  born 
Somehow,  somewhere,  and  feel  at  home. 


31 


THIS 


-  ^===^ 


OVERDUE. 


*OM 


^ 


HOV 


LD21 


_l0Om-7,' 40  (6936s) 


Photomount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc. 

Makers 
Stockton,  Calif. 

PAT.  JAN.  21,  1908 


939883 


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